


When It Comes To Living, There's No Place Like Home

by Shittyfanfictionahoy



Series: How We Came To Be [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Canon-typical swearing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gen, Mammon is a tsundere and Veridia is having none of it, Mammon's a bit of an ass in this one, Multi, Other, Technically one of them-, Time to introduce you to my oc's, Warning: religious content, Why am I doing this?, but because it's the beginning of the game, but who cares, no seriously I need validation, plz read and give kudos this fic is flopping, pre-relationship fic, well more like rivals to friends to lovers?:/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28898898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shittyfanfictionahoy/pseuds/Shittyfanfictionahoy
Summary: Opening their eyes, they stare up at the ceiling intently, wondering what life was like for her family up in the human world. It has been approximately 2 weeks and 3 days since they'd got stuck here with Josh- it's your fault he's here, a guilty voice reminded her, your fault he's stuck here, for a year with you- and they never wanted to go home more badly. Their internal compass felt all wrong. Was it morning or noon, night or dawn? Even checking the time on their human world phone unsettled them. They'd look at the time and see it was 9 am. They'd then look outside, at the moon shining down upon them, waning dim light over the Devildom, and shudder.How could such a pretty place be home to such evil creatures?-------In which Veridia get's homesick and ends up talking to a certain white haired demon lord....
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s)
Series: How We Came To Be [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126688
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	When It Comes To Living, There's No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!! I've come back to feed this fandom with some very rushed one-shots, and I have a surprise- I'M USING MY MC'S HERE! Well, I'm technically only using one here- Veridia- but my other MC- Joshua- makes a guest appearance. Some facts about Veridia here:  
> -Full name is Veridia Maryam Chowdhury  
> -Bengali-American  
> \- nonbinary- uses she/her, they/them pronouns (identifies as agender and girlflux)  
> -bisexual
> 
> As you can see, I only put the bare bones here. Mainly because I'm kinda rushing here-since I did this to cool myself down because I have a ton of projects to do- so I'm not going to spend a lot of time on the notes. Remember, leave reviews and a kudos- I love interacting with you guys, and they give me serotonin. Give me some tips, if you want, and have a happy reading! (PS- it's been a while since I played the game, so uh...yeah. I imagine this happening sometime between lesson 3 and 4.)

“Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air;  
And Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair;  
And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study Rome;  
But when it comes to living there is no place like home.”  
― Henry Van Dyke

\-----------

Veridia lays down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. They wear pajamas, stained with the memories of jam being smothered unto bread, leftover biryani* eaten at absurd times during the wee hours of the morning, sips of tea as they stare out the window at the awakening city, bathing in the rays of warm sunlight. Of course, there was no sunlight down here. Some rain, strangely. Rainbows (Veridia had read up on them. Apparently it was some effect with volcanoes and dragons- they couldn't quite remember.) But no sun.

Sighing, they muster themselves up, up out of their bed and towards the bathroom. Put on there RAD uniform- _RAD,_ she snorted. The humor of the schools acronym would never fail to bring a smile to her face- and lace their heeled boots. Quietly, they walk down the winding staircase of the House of Lamentation, careful not to be too loud. The brothers had _amazing_ hearing (as they constantly reminded her), and she didn't want them being aroused out of their slumber just yet. She needed some time to herself, without the Bros or Josh or the other exchange students.

They sit down at the table, closing her eyes. She pretends that she's at home- not at Byron's home, but at the apartment they'd once lived in, with their siblings, Ammu*, and grandmother- and imagines. 

_Her sister would be sitting right next to her, a dazed, sleepy expression on her face as she slowly sips her tea. She'd spit it out, complaining on how it was too hot, only to receive a stare from their Grandmother. She'd pout, make puppy eyes, and the older women would sigh, softly, before picking the cup up and muttering in Bengali* under her breath as she cooled the liquid. Her brother would be talking with their mother, discussing their plans for the day._

_Veridia, despite being a morning person, always preferred keeping silent during breakfast. It was always far more interesting-at least, in their mind- to survey the world around her, while shoveling food into their mouth. The world around them interested them, what could they say._

Opening their eyes, they stare up at the ceiling intently, wondering what life was like for her family up in the human world. It has been approximately 2 weeks and 3 days since they'd got stuck here with Josh- _it's your fault he's here,_ a guilty voice reminded her, _your fault he's stuck here, for a year with you-_ and they never wanted to go home more badly. Their internal compass felt all wrong. Was it morning or noon, night or dawn? Even checking the time on their human world phone unsettled them. They'd look at the time and see it was 9 am. They'd then look outside, at the moon shining down upon them, waning dim light over the Devildom, and shudder.

How could such a pretty place be home to such evil creatures?

They reorient themselves, holding unto the beautiful memories of home. The year would be a long one, for sure- but they'd get through it. Hopefully, if they were careful. And they didn't anger one of the brothers. And they kept close to the angels and Solomon. And didn't anger any of their demon classmates, or any of the teachers or get lost in town or accidentally get trapped in the fires of hell, and oh god, what if they pissed of Diavolo or-

A loud _bang_ snaps her out of her thoughts. The front door, she guesses, as she slowly rises up out of their seat. Likely one of the brothers, coming in after a long night out on the town. Her mind races, nervousness kicking up inside her. Should she go? Were there rules against sitting at the table when it wasn't time to eat? Would she be seen as weird? Oh fuck, what if they were in a bad mood and decided to take it out on her? 

Thankfully, the stranger did not walk inside the dining room, instead walking right past, to the living- _sitting room_ , she reminds herself-, their footsteps echoing away. And strangely, it sounded as if they were limping. Veridia stands, unsure of what to do. Go to help, or stay and hide? They _were_ demon lords-they could take care of themselves. But, of course, what was the harm in helping them? 

Veridia slowly tiptoes out of the dining room, going against the larger, screaming part of herself that cautioned that maybe, just maybe, approaching a demon lord when they were injured and quite possibly angered out of their mind was an idiotic thing to do. She instead, blocked that voice out and followed a far more softer, optimistic voice, that beckoned her to figure out what had happened (and possibly get injured in the process but hey, who said helping people-or demons- couldn't get dangerous?)

Veridia reaches the sitting room, where said demon had entered a few moments ago. She peeks in, and scans the room. There's someone sitting on the couch, facing away from the door. The fire crackles in the fireplace, casting a warm glow in the room. Sitting on the couch, is a man with white hair, and a tacky brown jacket.. She lets out an a cry internally. _Mammon._

Mammon, who was deemed as her and Josh's protector, the Second-born Avatar of Greed. Mammon, the very same demon who routinely ditched the two humans any time he could, and didn't miss a chance to oh so kindly remind them of the fact that they were practically walking food for demons. 

Of course, he wasn't a terrible protector demon. He _had_ made sure the two of them hadn't been eaten yet, so props to him, she guessed. 

She walks inside, slowly approaching the couch. The room is tinged with tiredness, anticipation, anger-all very terrible things if you wanted to check up on a volatile demon lord. 

Said volatile demon lord stiffens visibly on the couch, and painstakingly turns his neck back towards her. She freezes, as her brown earthen eyes meet his blue ones, obscured behind dark sunglasses. A silent stare off begins between the two, silence settling upon the room before Mammon opened his mouth. " Oi! Human, what're ya doing there?" the demon asks, his usually loud, obnoxious voice instead...quiet, strangely, and cracking. She takes the time to examine the demon's exhausted state-his hairs a mess, askew, his shirt is torn and cuts mar his torso, blood seeping out of a few of them. She winces. What had happened to him?

"You poor thing...." she mutters on impulse, moving closer to the demon until she's directly behind the couch, staring down at his face. The white haired man stares at her, for a few moments before snarling-" Don't ya dare talk about meh financial situation', _human."_ Veridia flinches, moving back slightly. _When had they talked about his financial situation-Oh,_ she thought, thinking back on when she said, "you poor thing", to him. He'd thought they'd been insulting his wealth-or lack of it, in his case. A short giggle escaped her lips, catching the demon's attention.

"The hell ya laughin' about, numbskull?" the demon sneers, glaring at her, annoyance and hatred mixing in his eyes. Veridia gulps down her laughter.

"N-nothing in particular. Just at the misunderstanding. You see, when I said 'you poor thing', I wasn't talking about your-you know, your credit card, or money. I was-it's a popular phrase in the human world- it's used primarily to show pity or sympathy towards someone or something-"Veridia trails off abruptly, hearing a laugh from Mammon. His laughter is soft, light- _cute,_ Veridia thinks. 

She'd like to hear that laugh again. 

Of course, the next thing he said instantly dashed the thought out of her head. " You? A magic-less human, pityin' the Great Mammon! You're a real hoot, ya know that?" He replies, shaking his head. Veridia clenches her teeth as Mammon blabbers on and on, about how there wasn't any need for a "weakling like ya to worry about me, ya hear?!" 

_He sounds like a rabid idiot,_ she thinks venomously, staring, unflinching, at his animated face. _I hope he chokes on his precious credit card-_ she stops the venomous thought crawling into her head, banishing it into the farthest reach of her mind. Their life motto, _Kindness is caring for others_ _, even if they don't care for you,_ plays on repeat in their head as they struggle not to punch his stupidly pretty face out. 

_A change in conversation was needed._ Veridia points to the state of his chest, and questions him. " What happened to you?" they ask him curiously, cutting Mammon off. He follows their finger, down to his chest, before looking back at them. 

"Lucifer caught me gamblin' away some o' his stuff, the asshole." He answers, a gloomy look flickering on his face for a brief instant, before it is replaced by one of annoyance. " Wait, the hell am I telling you for? Ya just gonna gossip about it with Asmo!" he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a classic "What?" expression, shaking his head. Veridia wrinkles their nose. 

"Why would I gossip about you with Asmodeous?" she quips, raising an eyebrow. She rarely talked to the flirty Avatar of Lust, instead opting to stay as far away from him as possible. She didn't feel particularly safe around him and his thrifty stare, eyeing her up as if she were prized chattel, or when he slid over to make a flirty comment. Apparently, if he couldn't brainwash them to sleep with him, he'd wear her down by pulling "the moves" on her. 

" I mean, why wouldn't ya?" Mammon shoots back, shrugging. 

Silence descends once more upon them, as Veridia struggles to find something to say in response to Mammon. Suddenly, the demon opens his mouth once more, catching Veridia off guard. "What did you come 'ere for?" he queries, and Veridia shrugs. " I heard you come in. I wanted to see if you were alright." Veridia replies. Mammon raises his eyebrows, surprised. They were worried for him? 

"As ya can see, I'm fine. This'll heal sooner or later, don't ya worry your tiny little head 'bout it." He says, waving his hand, wincing at the sudden spike of pain shooting up his arm. Lucifer really hadn't pulled any punches last night. 

"Are you sure?" They asked him, her face scrunched up with worry. A crease on her forehead appears as she regards him. He was a demon, technically, so the cuts would heal faster, meaning that he posed no real danger to bleeding out- at least, that was what Veridia guessed, having taken 2 weeks of demon anatomy classes in this god-forsaken hellhole. So she could just walk away and leave this idiotic conversation with this annoying son-of-a- _Be kind Veridia- ahem,_ man. 

Except, he really did seem to be in bad shape. And who was Veridia to turn a blind eye to someone in need of help?

\----------

Which is what led to Veridia flitting back to the kitchen, grabbing paper towels, alcohol wipes- _Demon-ease alcohol pads,_ the box boasted, a tiny cartoon of a three footed crow on the lid. _The Best alcohol pads on the market!_

 _And the only alcohol pads in the Devildom, apparently,_ Veridia thinks as she hurries back to the sitting room where she had left Mammon. The demon reclined on the couch, his feet up, scrolling through Devilgram. He was going to leave a nasty stain there. Mammon lifts his head up, hearing Veridia walk back in. He sighs, obviously quite annoyed at the fact that Veridia seemed to be ignoring the memo to leave him be. "What are ya doin' _now,_ human?" he asks, gesturing to the band aids in their hands. 

Veridia doesn't answer, instead opting to silently lay the products on a side table next to the couch. "Could you get up?" Veridia asks, gesturing for him to sit up. He does, confused, still not catching on. Veridia pops open the lid of the alcohol wipes, takes one out, and rips it open. "Ok, this won't hurt-it'll just sting for a bit..." She says to him, as if he was a five year old who'd gotten a bruise. Mammon's eyes widen, realizing what she was about to do. 

"W-what are ya _doin'_ , human?! Those are only for emergencies! I told ya, I'm fine!" He yelps, and practically jumps 6 feet into the air. Veridia looks at the demon, surprised at his sudden panic. 

Then, it finally dawns on her. _I_ _s he afraid of the alcohol pads?_ she thinks, noticing his sudden nervousness as he eyes the pad in her hand. She voices that very same thought, much to the chagrin of Mammon. " Y-ya got some nerve, ya know that?! The Great Mammon ain't afraid of some fucking wipe! I could make you eat ya words right now, if I chose to- but if I did, Lucifer would have me exterminated-" The demon blabbered on and on, waving his hands around, desperately attempting to disprove Veridia's assumption. 

He was so afraid of the pads. 

Veridia's eyes soften, and she let's out a small laugh. Not at him, but at the strange absurdity of the situation. The Second Born Demon lord, Mammon, Avatar of Greed, Mr. " Don't-ya-dare-be-pitying-me, _human"_ was scared of alcohol wipes. It was incredibly comical. But apparently, not to Mammon. For he glares at her, letting out one of his signature growls of displeasure. Veridia immediately turns their laugh into a poorly disguised cough, a bit of guilt churning up inside her. "Uhm, sorry, just pretty drafty in here." she fibs, and Mammon nods. 

"It better be!" he exclaims, before getting up off the couch. He gently tests his right foot against the floor, wincing slightly. He begins to shuffle-hop out of the room, tiny "aahs" and "shits" emanating out of his mouth. Veridia quirks a brow before holding out her hand for him to hold. He glares at it, about to voice that he didn't need some stupid human's help-but then he pitches forward and let's out a small yelp, grabbing Veridia's hand. Veridia helps steady him, and leads him out of the room. 

Of course, soon enough Mammon yanks his hand out of hers. " Could ya stop? I don't really need my food helpin' me walk- I can do that by myself. " Veridia watches as he shuffles down the hallway, attempting to get to the door leading down to his room. She silently walks ahead of him. She notices his shoulders sag with relief at the fact that she may be leaving him alone- Rude- but then stiffens once more as she opens the door leading down to his room for him. 

"Really, you should be happy that I'm helping you. The Great Mammon, who has a human that's waiting head and toe on him." Veridia said quickly, already mentally preparing herself for the onslaughts of "Piss of human" and "I don't need _food_ helpin' me" that Mammon would surely screech. Mammon seems to think this over- _he can think. Surprising,_ she thinks, before mentally kicking herself. 

"That's right! You're helpin' me, ya hear that!" Mammon says, a look of satisfaction crossing over on his face. He begins to talk, waxing on and on about how they'd "finally learned there place", and they'd "finally learned some manners." Veridia tunes this out as she helps Mammon down the stairs, step by step. His hand is warm, and big. In comparison, Veridia's is small, yet somewhat warmer. 

Mammon's room is in the garage, and it's messy. Veridia thought she was disorganized- she hated cleaning- but this was on a whole different scale. Clothes were thrown on the floor, in mismatched piles as high as her knees. Tissues plastered with snot were scattered about the room, empty bottles that might have been once filled with liquor rolling around aimlessly. There was a gigantic pool table in the middle of the room, pool sticks and balls scattered on it. It looked like he'd been playing a game earlier. There was a gigantic screen propped on a table in front of a couch, high-quality speakers connected to it. _No wonder he was broke, he must have blown it all on his stuff._ She thinks, examining the room. Mammon heads over to his bed-it's pathetically small, lonely, she notes- and plops down on it. Veridia's eyes travel up to the second floor- _wait, there's a second floor_ \- and her eyes nearly bugs out of her skull as she takes in the car there. 

It was the very definition of a man cave. Veridia picks up a shirt on the ground, making a short flicking motion with their wrist. The quality of the shirt is nice, pliable. It was obvious that the shirt had costed a pretty penny. They frown and fold it carefully, setting it down on the couch. 

Now see, garages are large, spacious, but also incredibly chilly. And, Veridia notes as they shiver, this garage was obviously not insulated. _Why isn't the garage insulated?_ What, had he not been willing to shell out money to keep his room warm? 

Veridia looks over at him on his incredibly messy bed, and notices something: he's shivering. He's practically cocooned in his blankets, yet he still shivers. Apparently, he was incredibly sensitive to the cold. Veridia sits down at the edge of his bed, much to Mammon's chagrin. "Go sit somewhere else." He snaps. " My bed ain't for filthy humans like you." Veridia raised their eyebrow. 

"Uhm, respectfully, where else would I sit? Your couch," she gestures to the couch and the clothes scattered haphazardly on it, " has no space. What, am I supposed to sit on the floor?" she asks. Mammon shrugs. " Ain't my problem, just get off of my bed." Veridia moves off of it, plopping down on the cold floor, moving snotty tissues and scattered clothes to the side, silently huffing. 

_The fuck am I, some dog?_

Veridia crosses her legs and propped her head in her hand, sighing loudly. Catching Mammon's eye, she sighs even louder. Dipping into an uncharacteristic moment of pettiness, she sets out to annoy him to the best of her ability. According to her ex-girlfriend, they were incredibly annoying when they set their mind to it. The sighing continues, for at least a few minutes, before Mammon cracks. 

"FINE!" He yells dramatically, flinging his arms around. Veridia smiles a small, self-satisfied smile. She finally broke the asshole. 

"You can sit 'ere, but ya better not get yer human germs over it, ya hear?!" He exclaims as Veridia perches on the edge of the bed. She nods, struggling not to roll her eyes. She honestly has no idea why she's still down here with him- she could've split a few minutes ago instead of hammering away at some semblance of small talk. They sit, once more, in awkward silence, before Veridia cut in. 

"You know, I used to be scared of alcohol pads as a kid. They stung whenever I wiped them over cuts." she reassures, remembering the whole debacle in the sitting room. As a kid, she used to cry whenever her mother or grandmother took out the alcohol pads to treat cuts. She hated the stinging feeling that accompanied the alcohol being rubbed onto freshly cut, bleeding skin. 

_"I don't wanna!" the little kid pouts, crossing her arms. Veridia is 6 years old, standing in her mother's room, her arms crossed and staring pointedly at the alcohol pad in her mother hands. Her mother, Farhaz Alam Chowdhury, sighs. The two stare at each other, Veridia with tear filled eyes, and her mother, with tired ones. Their auburn eyes bore into each other, silently seeing who'd give in first._

_"Veridia, Putula*, just let me wipe your cut. If you don't, you'll get sick." Her mother said, attempting to soothe the child. Small Veridia shakes her head, fast._

_"No no! The wipes stingy Ammu*!" Veridia pouts, crossing her arms, then whimpering as she sees the bloody cut on her hand. She'd fallen down when running, and cut her hand. The crimson liquid welled up, flowing down her hand. It wasn't incredibly deep, but it still hurt. Farhaz taps her lip, thinking quietly for a moment, before her eyes sparkle, her "I-have-a-plan" face setting in._

_"Tell you what, how about this: you let me wipe your hand with the wipe, and I'll let you have a extra plate of biryani tonight, hm?" her mother asks, and Veridia seems to ponder the trade, before nodding enthusiastically and sticking her hand out. A momentary sting of pain in exchange for a plate of delicious food? Being able to lord it over her siblings? Quite a fair trade, in her opinion._

" Ya better talk about me with more respect, ya hear? I'm the Great Mammon, and you're just some lowly human! And I am NOT afraid o' wipes!" He reiterates, much to Veridia's chagrin. She sighed-It sounded a bit like how her mother sighed, she thinks- and they get up. They know when they're not wanted. 

As Veridia is about to walk up the stairs to the first floor, back upstairs to their room, Mammon calls to them. " Hey, human!" They stop, and turn to him. 

"Yes?" she says, waiting for him to speak. He stares at them, silently, as if fishing for words to say. A minute passes, and she notices his mouth moving in strange circles. Her eyebrows raise. _Is he ok? High, maybe?_ Did crack do that? She'd never done crack before, but she'd had friends who'd done that before, at house parties. They'd examined their friends, as they tripped on air, seemingly light and free of strife as they rode their high's before crashing back to earth. Still though, she was pretty sure crack didn't screw up someone's mouth. 

_Demonic crack, maybe? Who knows what demon crack does?_

" _Thank_ you," he finally spits out, much to Veridia's surprise. _He knows how to thank someone? Surprising,_ she thinks, and nods. "Your welcome." she replies, and shoots him a thankful smile. _It isn't that hard to be nice, see?_ she thinks at him, silently. Of course, the next thing he asks makes her quite confused. 

"So, I bet ya want sumthin' from me, eh?" he asks, and Veridia's smile is wiped off her face almost instantaneously, replaced by a look of curiosity. What? Did people not do things, out of the kindness of there hearts? Of course, when she thought about it, and considering the fact that she was currently stuck in diet-Hell....yeah, they probably didn't. Another reason this place sucked as-An invisible hand waved the thought away, censoring the curse word. That happened sometimes, when she cursed a lot, verbally or in her thoughts. When she was a kid, her grandmother told them it was the angel on their right shoulder*, making sure she stayed pure. Of course, after going to Islamic Studies for a bit, she knew this wasn't the case- at least, not in Islam, since the shoulder angels were solely there to record good and bad deeds...She brushes the thoughts away, having gotten side-tracked by them. 

"No, I don't want anything from you. "She replies, and Mammon looks surprised. That was utter bullshit, he concludes. Everyone wanted something from someone else, sooner or later. Veridia moves to sit back next to him, slowly, as though she's approaching a feral animal. Or a demon who might decide she was a tasty morsel worth eating, which, hypothetically, might happen any time soon. She perches once more at the edge of his bed, and stares at him. 

" Could ya stop starin' at me? You're acting weird, human." He says, crossing his arms. Veridia quickly averts her gaze. Ok, so she had been acting weird then. 

God, they were not very good with people, were they? 

"Don't you get tired, calling me 'human' all the time." She queries, and Mammon opens his mouth. "Oi, don't be tellin' me what to call ya-" Veridia cuts him off and continues on. 

"I mean, Josh and I are both human. So is Solomon. What if you need one of us, and we're all hanging out or something?"

"Pfft, what would I need ya for? And I'd just call ya 'human'. It's gonna be your fault if you don't know what human I'm referring to." 

"But that's just the point-we're all humans, Mammon. Well, Josh and I are, at least. So is Solomon. It's kinda useless to refer to us with the name of our species without utilizing individual characteristics we have so we can differentiate who you're talking to-"

'Whoa, whoa, slow down. Speak in a language I actually _understand,_ human!"

Veridia sighs once more, the ever suffering sigh of kind people who sacrifice their time and energy to those who'd sooner spit on them and stomp them to death, and repeats her statement, but this time in simpler words. "What I'm saying, is that if you don't use our names or nicknames and call us by our species, we aren't going to be able to distinguish who you want, which'll just become a hassle for you and your brothers." She repeats, and watches as the dim-witted (er, not dim-witted, just not the best at language) demon, looking for a reaction. Of course, it didn't take long- his face breaks into a genuine smile. At least, what they hoped to be a genuine smile and not a mocking one. 

"Alright, I'll call ya Flowers, and the other one can be Freckles!" he exclaims, and Veridia slips a plastic smile on her face. _Flowers and...freckles..._ If this was an anime, they'd be smiling at the oblivious demon whilst a nerve was popping in their head. 

"Why," she seethed out, " don't you call us by our _real_ names?" Her patience was wearing thin once more, and she was pretty sure she was 5 seconds away from stomping up the stairs in a fit of rage. 

"Pft, no I won't! Ya can't make me use your names! Besides," he continues on, " your nicknames make sense. You always wear flowers in your hair, and the other one has freckles on his face! Perfect names!" He says, and then smiles self assuredly, fully expecting Veridia to applaud him for doing the bare minimum. Still though, the names made sense. Veridia did always wear flowers in her hair- well, flower pins, at least. Red spider lily pins, with pink roses, golden daffodils were all in her hair today. They'd spend a few minutes each morning, sorting through their excessive jewelry and flower pins, figuring out what to adorn their hair with. It was their signature, their _in summis montibus-_ ~~at least, she hoped that was how you said "crest" in Latin.~~

Veridia sighs, knowing she won't win this fight, and raises her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine," she says, a slight smile on her face, a laugh in her voice. "You can call us that." Veridia suddenly hears a _chirp_ from her D.D.D, and takes it out, tapping on the screen. The time flashes, 20:30 AM. They used Military Time, down in the Devildom. Had been a bit of a culture shock, but they were somewhat used to it now. A few simple calculations and-"It's 8:30! Time to get to school." she announces, jumping off of his bed and walking to his stairs. She turns back to him. 

"Uh, you going to school?" Veridia asks, and Mammon shakes his head, scrolling through Devilgram. "Skippin'. "He replies, and Veridia's eyes widen. Wait, if he was skipping, who would protect the two of them at RAD? 

"But-but aren't you supposed to protect the two of us?" She splutters, a bit of panic welling up inside of her. In response, the demon shrugs apathetically. 

"Can't do shit with a broken leg, now can I?" He replies, and Veridia glares at him. _Oh of course, he says he has a broken leg now._ Still though, she didn't have enough malice towards the demon to force him to school with a limp, so she lets him off the hook. As she walks up the stairs, thoroughly dejected, dreading the impending jeers and attacks on their soul by their new-found classmates, Mammon, once again, calls up to her. "Oi, don't worry. Ya got the shady wizard bastard with you!"

Veridia looks back at him, and, purses her lips. " He's not a shady wizard bastard, he's my friend." She says, in typical protagonist fashion, and Mammon shrugs. "STILL A SHADY BASTARD, THOUGH!" He yells back at her as they stomp up his steps. Opening the door and slipping out, they lean against it, their back to the door leading to the garage. 

She hurries off to find Josh, who's already waiting for her outside the HoL, anxiously anticipating another day at RAD. As the day passes, spending it with their fellow exchange students, they realize something. 

It's been a while, since they've felt homesick. 

* * *

**Vocab:**

**Biryani:** A dish of rice, meat, and spices, eaten primarily in Muslim households throughout South-Asia.

 **Ammu:** Bengali word for "mother"

 **Bengali:** Language primarily spoken in the Indian state of West Bengal and the country of Bangladesh

 **Putula:** Bengali word for "doll". the 'A' is silent. (Note: The pronunciation of this word may vary from district to district, as each district has their own unique dialect. I'm operating off of Sylheti dialect, which is what I primarily grew up around, being a first gen kid of two Bengali immigrants. So uh-if you actually use the A when saying Putula-which I pronounce as fu-tool, feel free to say it in the comments.)

 **Angel on their right shoulder:** In Islam, it is believed that two angels sit on your shoulders. They are called Al-Kiraman and Al-Katibin, and they record your good and bad deeds. (Note: I come from a family of somewhat secular Muslims, and it's been a long-ass time since I've gone to a Quranic Studies class, and I'm also very non-religious, so if I got this wrong, feel free to correct me in the comments.)

 **Authors Note:** So, this is probably the longest one-shot I've shat out so far, and it's not that great. :/ It kind of gives off the "look-at-me-I-write-edgy-fanfic-rofl" which is kinda not what I'm going, Imma be honest. As said earlier, leave a kudos and a comment! Did you enjoy the fic? Tips and tricks? Interested in learning more about my oc's? Have a nice day!!


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